


I Never Said It Was Your Mistake (A Whouffle/Whouffaldi Collection)

by hawthornn



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7964524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawthornn/pseuds/hawthornn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of Whouffle and Whouffaldi oneshots! I know they've been done a lot, but the more the merrier. Please comment ideas for more chapters, since I'll probably run out soon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Copyright Statement

I do not own the characters of Doctor Who. They are owned by BBC. However, this story itself is copyrighted and cannot be plagiarized.

 

Copyright © 2015 by hawthornn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. 

Printed in the United States of America


	2. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello, everyone! Here's the first addition to I Never Said it Was Your Mistake. It's just a bit of Whouffle I whipped up in Algebra (graphing the Algebraic Theorem really isn't that fun) and thought you might enjoy. Prompt: The Doctor has met Clara while she's in high school and appears one day as she's leaving school.

I ran down the halls, dodging fists and backpacks as I went. Nearly colliding with my 10th grade media teacher, I swung around the corner and flung myself up the stairs—two at a time. I turned another corner and raced down the last hall, stopping finally at the dead end I was met with. I turned towards number 892. Maddeningly, I twisted the knob around and around, landing on 5. I flew back around the other way, reaching 21. Finally, I twirled it the opposite way one last time, expectantly waiting for the tug that meant my locker would open.

No such luck. I kicked my locker furiously, and slumped to the floor. My books slid out of my hands in defeat. I was tired of this happening every day. All around me, students were slamming their lockers and walking calmly to their bus. The bus I was going to miss. I stood, filled with new energy at the thought of missing it again, and began turning the knob for what felt like the hundredth time.

But before I could start, I felt a light breeze on my shoulder. It was comforting and familiar, as if something or someone was waving hello on the wind. I ceased turning the knob and looked up at my locker hopefully, as if daring it to be tricking me. A wheezing, groaning cough filled the corridor, and I smiled hugely. I placed my forehead on the locker door as if to thank it. If it had opened the way it was supposed to I would have been on my way home by now, after all.

I inhaled deeply. I could almost smell it. The only problem was that I was in too much shock to move. It was as if someone had glued me to the yellow metal with an industrial-strength adhesive. I stood there, frozen stiff.

People around me gasped, screaming "It's him! It must be him! The one she told Anna about! He's really real!"

I knew when I heard the boom! and the creak of the door that it was real, really happening, and suddenly I could move again. I swivelled on my heel, imagining the TARDIS and the Doctor standing beside me. That was when a pair of arms grabbed me by the waist and I felt myself fly through the air. I shrieked, momentarily terrified, before realizing whose arms they were. Then my screaming turned to laughter.

"Doctor." I giggled, biting my lip and looking down at him the way one would a long-lost lover. He grinned back at me coyly, before letting me back on solid ground.

The Doctor hadn't changed much in the past few years, but then again the time-travelling alien never seemed to age at all. His dark brown hair was swept to the side in its usual spiky way, his face showing no signs of wrinkles besides the smile lines near his eyes. He was donning his usual attire—a white button-down shirt, black bow tie and braces, black pants, dress shoes, and tweed jacket.

I turned towards the blue police box with a mixture of nostalgia and dislike. "I see you've brought the snog box, eh?" The TARDIS rumbled disgruntledly at her nickname.

"Oi! She is not a snog box. Please, don't call her that. I don't want her to get all upset like last time and jam the steering capacity." The Doctor tried to look angry, but his eyes betrayed him by twinkling merrily.

"Oh, really? Not a snog box? Let's think of all the times she wasn't a snog box. There's Rose—" I teased him, before being cut off.

"You seriously aren't using that against me, are you? That was sandshoes, not me–"

"Fine. Amelia Pond." He glared at me.

"That was not my fault. She's the one who just started-you know....kissing me! I couldn't stop her, you know Amy, it was even her and Rory's wedding night!"

"River Song? Seriously, I was there. I even heard you say, and I quote: 'Her days, yes. Her nights—well that's between her and me, eh?' You call that not snogging? I'm surprised you two didn't bring back the Time Lords!" I grinned victoriously. At this he blushed furiously, looking down at his shoes to avoid my eyes.

"W-what happened between River Song and I is highly private, highly confiden—" The Doctor spluttered, trying to form a sentence that he could use in his defense.

"You mean highly private to anyone but the TARDIS. Aaaand me. Aaaand Amy and Rory, who happened to be in the TARDIS conceiving River—don't know how that paradox didn't make the snog box irritated—at the exact same moment. And by the way, there were three of you. Three copies of you! Seriously, the TARDIS gets angry when I accidentally close her door the wrong way, but she'll allow four huge paradoxes going on at once?!"

"Alright, alright. Fine. So River and I were...." He hesitated, then ignored the sentence as if he had never started it. "But the TARDIS is definitely not a snog box. One pair of people snogging does not make her a snog box!"

I raised my eyebrows at him, ready to pull out the big guns. "Oh, I know. That's why she's a snog box. Because it wasn't just Rose, or Amy, or River—how about the Victorian Era?"

The look on the Doctor's face became twisted. I knew from years of reading people's emotions that it was look of someone who was trying to hide their feelings from others.

"You kissed me!" He protested, but his voice was tinny and small.

"You blushed, Chin Boy." I smiled at him, my eyes darting between his eyes and down to his lips.

He seemed to study me for a minute, before tilting my chin up in his hand. His smile grew.

"Oh, my bossy impossible girl." He shook his head fondly, his eyes now mimicking mine. "You just can't resist an argument."

"Not when it really is a snog box. And I think we've proven that thoroughly."

The Doctor seemed to swallow hard, as if gathering the courage to say something.

"Really?" His breath tickled my neck now, his lips inches away from mine. "I'd like to test that theory."

"Scientists always review their data, after all." I added, breathless now. When we kissed, it was like a million suns just exploded somewhere. And, knowing the Doctor, they might as well have.

"OI! NO PDA!" A voice shouted somewhere, and we jerked from our trances. We had completely forgotten that we were standing in the middle of a school hallway.

The Doctor's face became so red, it could compete against a fire truck. I just laughed, pulling him into the TARDIS by the collar of his shirt.


	3. Whisper Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor turns up at Clara's house one day, but something about the situation is off.

Do you hear the Whisper Men? The Whisper Men are near.

If you hear the Whisper Men, then turn away your ear.

Do not hear the Whisper men, whatever else you do.

For once you've heard the Whisper Men, they'll stop and look at you.

..............

I hammered the last shingle into the roof, eyeing the neighbors wearily. There were two teenagers that lived there, and they would constantly stalk my house. Several times I had seen them looking through their window with binoculars. They were peculiar teenagers, not quite....well, you'll probably think I'm crazy for mentioning it, but...I began to think they weren't human.

Today, I could see them sitting on the swing set in their front yard, pretending to be playing outside. I knew that they were actually watching. They were always watching. Sometimes I thought that I should tell someone, that they might be dangerous. But every time I would try to tell someone, the thought of them would disappear from my mind.

I sat on the roof of my mom's art studio in my backyard. I had just finished building it for her, and I was so proud of it.

I leaned back on my knees, wiping my forehead with my arm and sighing a breath of relief. I was done with the project. Now all I had to do was paint the outside and I'd be done!

Then I heard it: the wheezing, coughing sound that could only mean one thing: I was saved.

"Doctor," I whispered, grinning. I leapt off of the low roof in one swift movement, feeling the neighbors' eyes on me. Jogging through the gate and to the front yard, I watched as a dark blue police box materialized on my lawn. The neighbors were standing now, but strangely enough didn't seem very surprised to see a TARDIS appear out of thin air.

When the door of the box opened and a dark-haired man with a huge chin stepped out, I giggled and threw my arms around him.

"Doctor!"

He kissed me, wrapping his arms around me. "Hello, Clara!"

I turned away from him for a moment to glance at the teenagers. But they were gone. And now that I noticed it, the entire neighborhood was completely silent except for a strange sound...

I whipped around to face the Doctor, but he too was gone. 

"Doctor? Doctor!" There was no answer except for the haunting chill of whispers, relaying the same saying over and over:

Do you hear the Whisper Men? The Whisper Men are near.

If you hear the Whisper Men, then turn away your ear.

Do not hear the Whisper men, whatever else you do.

For once you've heard the Whisper Men, they'll stop and look at you.

....................


	4. Face the Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER WARNING: If you haven't watched Face the Raven, skip this chapter.
> 
> A rewritten script of Face the Raven, to add in some sad whouffle moments. GRAB YOUR TISSUE BOXES, FRIENDS!

(DOCTOR'S POINT OF VIEW)

"Well, if Danny Pink can do it, so can I." Clara smiled bravely, but her lip trembled terribly.

"Do what?" I was afraid to ask. Danny Pink had died. Surely she didn't want to....

"Die right." I swallowed hard as she spoke. "Die like I mean it. Face the Raven."

"No. This, this isn't happening. This can't be happening. You are my impossible girl, that's why this isn't happening. You never die. You stay here. You stay next to me." I felt a tear run down my face.

"Maybe this is what I wanted. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is why I kept running. Maybe this is why I kept taking all those stupid risks. Kept pushing it."

"This is my fault."

"This is my choice."

"I let you get reckless."

"Why? Why shouldn't I be so reckless? You're reckless all the bloody time. Why can't I be like you?"

"Clara, there's nothing special about me. I am nothing, but I'm less breakable than you. I should have taken care of you."

"I never asked you to."

"You shouldn't have to ask." I needed to tell her, tell her now.

The Raven cawed somewhere along the street outside, and it brought us both to our senses. There wasn't much time.

Rigsy interrupted, anguished.

"Clara, if I'd known, I'd—"

"Don't. Shut up." Clara looked at him, pleading with him to be quiet.

"But I—"

"Really, Rigsy, shut up. If you feel guilty about this, even for one minute, I—"

This time Clara was the one to be interrupted. The Raven cawed again, closer this time.

"You." She turned to me, and I gazed into her eyes longingly. What if I never saw them filled with that beautiful light again? I couldn't bear to even imagine that. 

"Now, you listen to me. You're going to be alone now, and you're very bad at that. You're going to be furious and you're going to be sad, but listen to me. Don't let this change you." I opened my mouth to argue, but she shushed me. 

"No, listen. Whatever happens next, wherever she is sending you, I know what you're capable of. You don't be a Warrior. Promise me. Be a doctor." The tears were streaming down her face.

There was a moment of silence before I whispered, "What's the point of being a doctor if I can't cure you?"

My cheeks were wet now. Oh, if Eleven could see us now.

"Heal yourself. You have to. You can't let this turn you into a monster. So, I'm not asking you for a promise, I'm giving you an order. You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die, and no one else, here or anywhere, will suffer."

"What about me?" The moment I said it I regretted it. Clara was dying, and I was asking what would happen to me. I'm so selfish. But Clara wasn't.

"If there was something I could do about that, I would. I guess we're both just going to have to be brave."

"Clara." It was one word, but she seemed to know everything I was about to say. She pulled me into a hug, her fingers finding my jacket and slipping inside. Her lips were scalding against my head.

"Everything you are about to say, I already know. Don't do it now. We've already had enough bad timing." Her breath warmed my neck as she choked out the words.

The Raven sounded as if it were right outside. I didn't have any time left. No matter what, I would tell her.

"Clara. My Impossible Girl." I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers, and she responded without question. Her hands, her perfect hands, clung onto the lapels of my jacket and pulled me close.

"I love you too, my Doctor." She was so close that I could see her eyelashes, tears clinging to them desperately. Every time she blinked a waterfall cascaded down her cheeks, which were flushed from the overload of emotions.

"Don't run. Stay with me." I grabbed her hand, not wanting to let go of her ever again.

"Nah. You stay here. In the end, everybody does this alone." She was so, so brave.

"Clara." I breathed her name. What if it was the last time I would say her name?

"This is as brave as I know how to be. I know it's going to hurt you, but, please, be a little proud of me."

"Oh, my Impossible Girl. Clara Oswin Oswald. I have always been proud of you."

She placed a hand on my cheek.

"Thank you. Goodbye, Doctor." She whispered her last words in my ear before kissing me quickly.

The Raven cawed again, and I somehow knew that it was a last warning.

Clara stepped outside into the street, her hands shaking. I followed her, half wanting to turn around and not witness the event. 

She was muttering something under her breath. I realized she was saying "I will be brave. I will be brave for my Doctor."

The Raven launched itself from its perch. Clara opened her arms wide and it flew into her stomach. I watched, as if it was in slow motion. She opened her mouth wide in a silent scream then relaxed and I knew it was the end.

The realization hit me like an invisible brick wall and I clapped a hand over my mouth to hold in the scream of agony. It felt like all of my regenerations combined; the pain of death multiplied hundreds of times, my mind reeling. For a minute I thought I might actually become as mad as the Master. I understood how someone might kill so many people.

I sank to the ground, rocking back and forth and screaming in emotional pain. Then, remembering, Ashildr, I stopped myself. I stood, wiping away the tears and clenching my teeth.

I walked back inside, my innards boiling with quiet anger.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I truly am." I wish I had let Ashildr die. She doesn't deserve to live.

"What Clara said about not taking revenge. Do you know why she said that?" I looked at her, conveying all the anger I felt into a single glare as I spoke.

"She was saving you." Ashildr was so naive, so clueless. She didn't even seem sorry that she caused Clara's death.

"I was lost a long time ago. She was saving you. I'll do my best, but I strongly advise you to keep out of my way. You'll find that it's a very small universe when I'm angry with you. And you have no idea how angry I can be. Especially when you just killed the one person in the universe I care about."

"So run. And you'd better run fast, too."


	5. Sunglasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this Whouffaldi one-shot, Clara has just met the Doctor at a concert where the Toclafane appeared.

Clara backed up against a wall. "What do I do?!"

The man stood next to her, fiddling with some gadget he had pulled out of his coat pocket. He didn't answer, just muttered frantically under his breath.

"For god's sake!" Clara yanked the metal machine out of his grasp and threw it to the floor. "We're about to be killed, and you're just playing with toys!"

He glared at her, sweeping the piece of metal off the ground. Then he ran to the right, dodging one of the spikes that was propelled towards them. He dragged Clara with him, talking all the way. 

"This is not a toy. This is a sonic screwdriver, and it could help us, if you could stop your bossy whining for a moment."

"What the hell is a bloody sonic screwdriver?" She shouted at him, rolling out of the way as another spike impaled the wall behind her. 

"It's a screwdriver that does this!"

On the last word, the man pointed the screwdriver at the creature that was coming towards them, holding it out like a wand. He pressed a button on its surface and the screwdriver emitted a strange high-pitched buzzing noise. The creature groaned, creaking and clanging, then stopped, apparently dead.

The man turned to Clara, flipping the screwdriver in the air and catching it. "See? Sonic screwdriver. Works on metal, electronics, anything but wood really. That creature there, that's a Toclafane. Inside are human brains, but they've been controlled, hypnotized to kill."

Clara looked disgusted, but quickly recovered. She looked from the Toclafane to the Doctor.

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm the Doctor, by the way. Here." The Doctor handed her the sonic screwdriver, and she ran her fingers over the shiny metal and buttons.

"I have to admit, that is a cool thing to have around. Sonic screwdriver," Clara tested out the words, smiling slightly.

"You should see my sunglasses." The Doctor winked.

"Don't tell me they're sonic too..."

The Doctor rummaged around in his jacket pocket, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on. Clara looked on, curious.

"How big are your pockets? Are they bigger on the inside, or something?"

"Or something." 

"Anyway, how exactly are those sunglasses sonic?"

"Try them on. Press the little button on the top, and think of something. Anything, and it'll do it. Imagine a door opening, and it will."

Clara paused, slipping the ends over her ears. Looking through them, all she could see was the Doctor, tinted in a shade of green. Then she closed her eyes, thinking of the first thing that came to mind.

She opened her eyes to find the Doctor standing before her, naked. She spun away, throwing off the glasses.

"What?" He touched her shoulder, concerned.

"You're naked!" Clara turned to find that he was not, in fact, naked.

The Doctor blushed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Um...you know how I told you anything you thought of would happen?"

Clara's cheeks tinted pink as she realized what had happened. "Yeah..."

The Doctor cleared his throat embarrassedly. "I wasn't actually naked, I was just...well...naked in the sunglasses."

"Ah." Clara couldn't meet his eyes.

"So!" The Doctor broke the tension by grabbing her arm and dragging her over to the corner of the room, where a blue box that said, "Police Call Box" stood.

"This is the TARDIS. Care to join me?" He snapped his fingers and the doors flew open.


	6. Same Place, Same Time...Ish.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by @britween1232 on Wattpad, here's a one-shot of Clara and the 12th Doctor running into the 11th Doctor and Victorian Clara. It's a bit long, so....

"Okay. Er, same place you left, same time...ish."

I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. "Ish? Don't give me an ish." 

Inwardly, though, I smiled. I missed the days when the Doctor would aim wrong and we'd end up on Mars or Metebelis Three (which actually was quite beautiful, despite the flesh-eating tentacles and giant carnivorous snakes that we had ended up running from). Not that the Doctor's aim had gotten better, but we had stayed on the correct course for the past few weeks.

Leaning over the console, I tried to get a glimpse of his expression. All I could make out were two angry owl eyebrows.

"These readings are very er, ishy." Here we go. I turned to the TARDIS doors, determined to see what was wrong this time. But just as I reached them, the Doctor called out.

"Clara!" There was a sudden severity in his voice, a tightness that I had rarely heard before. "Clara, I think it would be best not to leave the TARDIS."

I turned, my mouth nearly falling open in shock at his words. Though we had been in countless dangerous situations before, he had never discouraged me from venturing into the danger. If he was telling me not to leave the TARDIS now, after Trenzalore and the Cybermen and everything we had been through, then it must be something that even he was afraid of. I swallowed hard at this thought, suddenly nervous.

"Why?" I walked to the screen scanner. The Doctor pulled it away, looking at me with a strange expression on his face that I couldn't read.

"What is it, Doctor?" He just stared at me, his chest heaving.

Something was really wrong. I ran to the doors and pulled them open before he could stop me.

"Fine rabbit skins here! Half price today to a lucky buyer!"

"Hot roasted chestnuts!"

The noise that rolled into the TARDIS was overwhelming. Street musicians played, vendors shouted at the crowd and children laughed, running through the streets. The clatter of carts and horses on the cobblestones only added to the cacophony. 

Dresses whirled in shades of crimson, navy, and black, the layers of gathered fabric fanning out in the cold air.

I couldn't help looking around in amazement. Though I had been to Victorian London before, I had been so preoccupied with discovering who the new Doctor was that I hadn't gotten to appreciate it. Now, though, I was breathless at the sight of it. It left a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like deja vu.

Something prickled at the back of my mind when I saw a man with a top hat moving through an alleyway. The more I focused on him, the more I started to recognize him.

"Wait a minute..." I whispered, stepping out of the TARDIS slowly. I started to walk forward but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"Clara."

"But Doctor, that's...that's you. The other you, I mean. The eleventh Doctor. What is the eleventh Doctor doing here? He never—"

"Clara."

I looked up at him, and his eyes softened. "There's something I need to show you." As he spoke, his voice shook. "But it will be very dangerous, and very illegal."

"Illegal according to what?"

"To the laws of time." 

At his words, I frowned. The Doctor didn't usually seem to care about the laws of time—he had broken them so many times before—so how was this different?

"Doctor..."

"Shh." He put a finger to my lips to shush me. "We can't be seen by him, or by....well, you'll see soon."

We crept along the alleyway behind the eleventh Doctor, occasionally ducking behind trash bins or into doorways to avoid being seen. When the eleventh Doctor slowed to a stop in front of a tavern, the twelfth Doctor pulled me behind a trash bin.

"Here," he whispered, "is where things change."

The door to the tavern opened and closed and a woman walked out. She was very familiar, but her back was turned so I couldn't see her face. She was wearing a long, beige skirt and a red blouse, and she carried a tray with pitchers of water. I guessed that she was a barmaid.

She suddenly set down the tray and whirled around to face a snowman that I hadn't noticed earlier. It just seemed to have....appeared there.

The eleventh Doctor walked past her, and she called after him, "Did you make this snowman?"

I gave a start, my eyes wide. That was my voice. And when she turned to look at the eleventh Doctor, she had my face. I searched the twelfth Doctor's face for answers, but he just shook his head.

The eleventh Doctor turned to face Victorian Clara, and I could finally see his face again. My eyes swept over him, eating up the sight of him. Oh, how I had missed my Chin Boy. "No."

"Well who did?" Victorian Clara narrowed her eyes at the snowman. "Because it wasn't there a second ago—it just appeared. From nowhere."

Eleven walked towards the snowman, putting on a pair of glasses and looking from Victorian Clara to the snowman. He picked up some snow from the snowman and tested it between his fingers.

"Maybe it's snow that fell before and remembers how to make a snowman." He muttered, staring at it curiously.

"What, snow that remembers? That's silly." Victorian Clara put a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows at him quizzically.

"What's wrong with silly?"

"Nothing. I'm still talking to you, aren't I?" I smiled. Whoever this Victorian Clara was, she had the same sense of humor that I did.

Victorian Clara grinned, looking at the eleventh Doctor in a way that I could only describe as flirtatious. He removed his glasses and smiled at her. I almost jumped up with excitement. My Chin Boy and Victorian Clara were flirting with one another, a kind of flirting that the eleventh Doctor had rarely done with me.

"What's your name?" His voice became gooey, like melting chocolate, and I shivered.

"Clara."

"It's a nice name." He licked his lips. "Clara." I almost gasped aloud when he said my name. It had been so long since I had heard that wonderful voice.

But then he walked away, with an expression on his face of longing and sadness. "You should definitely keep it."

Victorian Clara wouldn't let him get away, however. She jogged after him, then stopped when she reached him.

"Oi! Where are you going?" She placed her hands on her hips once more. "I thought we was just getting acquainted."

He turned towards her with guilt on his face and gave her a sad smile. "Those were the days." Then he walked away, leaving two very confused Claras in his wake.

"What—?" The Doctor pressed a finger to my lips and I felt my stomach tingle. Despite what I had always thought, the Doctor was still the same man as the eleventh Doctor, the same man who had flirted with Victorian Clara.

"Come on." He led me back to the TARDIS, where he began pulling levers and pressing buttons at lightning speed, muttering under his breath.

"Since we're still here the paradox should work...but if I reverse the polarity..." His face lit up when the TARDIS landed, wheezing.

"Here." The Doctor led me out the doors. We were still in Victorian London, but in a hallway of someone's house. He pulled me underneath a desk just as the door sprung open.

The eleventh Doctor walked through it, closely followed by Victorian Clara.

"Oi! I thought I told you to stay in there." He glared down at her.

"Oh. I didn't listen." I couldn't help but grin again at that—Victorian Clara was so much like me.

"You do that a lot."

"That's why you like me." The eleventh Doctor blushed as Victorian Clara said it; and just by the look on his face I knew it to be true.

"Who said I like you?"

At that point, Victorian Clara seemed to become fed up with the eleventh Doctor. She gave up and pulled his lapels down so his lips met hers.

I blushed fiercely. This was too awkward, sitting and watching with the twelfth Doctor. Of all the times I had fantasized about the Doctor kissing me, it had never been like this.

When Victorian Clara pulled away, she studied the eleventh Doctor, who was flailing about and looking very uncomfortable.

"I think you just did," Victorian Clara said, answering his previous question.

"You kissed me!" The eleventh Doctor spluttered.

"You blushed." I had to give it to Victorian Clara; she was great at comebacks.

"And...with...just....shut up!" The eleventh Doctor practically ran away, adjusting his clothes and pressing his hands to his red cheeks.

Victorian Clara just smiled, raising an eyebrow at thin air.

When she left, I turned to the twelfth Doctor.

"Doctor?" Our eyes met, and I sighed. "Doctor, please explain to me what is going on."

"The other versions of you...they were...we were..."

I knew what he was going to say, but I needed him to say it.

"...Eleven and your echoes were always like that. They were together. First it was the girl in the Dalek Asylum, who was actually a Dalek but didn't know it. She gave her life to save me, blowing up the Asylum."

I couldn't take my eyes off of the Doctor; he had never wanted to go into the details of my echoes, and now I knew why.

"Then there was Victorian Clara; when the Doctor met her, they went a little further. She kissed him, and he gave her the key to the TARDIS. But then she fell from the cloud the TARDIS was parked on and died on Christmas Day."

His eyes became unfocused, and he stared off into the distance. "There were so many of you, and they all died."

"When I regenerated into this body, my subconscious brought me here, to Victorian London, because it was the first memory I regained: the memory of you kissing me. But every time your echoes would kiss me, it felt so...fake. Because they weren't the original, they weren't real. I can't help but wonder what—"

My self-control broke. I leaned in and captured his lips with my own, claiming them. His hands tangled in my hair, and I loved it. When he kissed me, he kissed me back with his whole body. His arms wrapped protectively around me. When we separated, we lay in the hallway, panting but grinning, arms around each another.


	7. Idris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after "Nightmare in Silver," after Clara is dropped back home. The Doctor is thinking about her way too much for the TARDIS' taste. Implied Theta/Koschei

The Doctor watched as Clara left, closing the door behind her. Sighing, he flipped a switch haphazardly and leaned on the TARDIS console.

Letting his mind wander, his eyes rested on the place where Clara had bid him goodbye for the night. He remembered how the Cyber Planner had dug deep into his consciousness.

The Doctor's mind was incredible. He was usually able to control what people saw if they ever did get into his mind. He had constructed a glass sphere like that on Gallifrey in his mental frame to protect his darkest secrets, and even then the Cyber Planner was able to access them. Worse, he had broken the glass and damaged the Doctor's defenses.

Then the Cyber Planner had confessed the Doctor's feelings to Clara, but she hadn't believed him. How was she supposed to believe him when she knew he was the Cyber Planner, just trying to take advantage of her?

The Doctor shuddered. He hadn't realized it before—hadn't thought about what was really at stake. If the Cyber Planner had won control over the Doctor, he would have been able to...to...rape her.

The worst part was that it wouldn't have even been that difficult for him. The Cyber Planner would already have access to all the Doctor's darkest fantasies, though he had tried so hard to bury them. He would use the Doctor's own desires against him.

The Doctor closed his eyes, escaping to his mind. Suddenly he was standing in the red fields of Gallifrey, a breeze whipping through his scarlet Academy robes. 

In the distance would usually be the huge polished glass dome of Gallifrey's governmental buildings. Now, though, all he could see were the splintered remains of gold supports and shattered glass scattered among the fields.

Concentrating, the Doctor imagined the door to his mind as a wall, then imagined that wall growing stronger and stronger. The broken glass slowly retracted back to its original position on the dome, and the gold supports rebuilt themselves. 

He looked up, half proud of his work and half nostalgic at what it represented. Then again, the leaders of Gallifrey had also driven his best friend mad and encouraged the massacre of so many innocent people. The Doctor missed the way Gallifrey used to be, when he and Koschei ran among the red grass, sat in their rooms and kissed, and fed their rebellious teenage minds with the boycott of their classmates' astrophysics projects.

As he remembered Koschei and Gallifrey, the TARDIS wheezed in agreement, using their telepathic connection to sigh in content. The Doctor opened his eyes at the sound, smiling. His eyes strayed to the scanner, which still portrayed Clara's bedroom where he had dropped her off.

"The Impossible Girl." She was curled up on her bed, wrapped in a TARDIS blue fleece blanket and looking at an article on her laptop called "The Secrets of Making Soufflés." Her hair was splayed out over her pillow, fanned out behind her and making her look like a mermaid of sorts. 

"A mystery wrapped in an enigma, squeezed into a skirt that's just a little too...tight." Clara chewed on her lip, and the Doctor had a sudden image of pressing her against a wall and kissing her.

Ew...please, keep your human activities to yourself. He could practically hear the TARDIS retching in his mind. He blushed.

Well it's a bit difficult when you can see into my mind. Would you like me to turn off the telepathic controls?

The TARDIS sighed in exasperation as the Doctor turned them off with the flick of a switch.

"You know I have feelings for her. Why does it bother you so much?" The Doctor spoke aloud, more to himself than to his time machine.

The TARDIS shook angrily in response, throwing the Doctor off balance. He groaned and pulled himself off the floor, muttering.

"Clara is a perfectly civilized human being!"

The TARDIS shook once more then was silent.

And then...

The TARDIS interface flickered into existence, complete with an image of Idris, from when the TARDIS had become a woman.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. 

Idris placed her hands on her hips in a very sassy manner and glared at him.

"She isn't normal," She complained, crossing her arms indignantly. "She shouldn't be alive."

"She saved my life!"

"So? Without me, you wouldn't have a life!"

"Without her, I would have been erased from history and you would just sit here lonely until the universe burnt to hell! And she has a name, it's Clara!"

The Doctor usually didn't yell, but now he was annoyed. Clara had done so much for him—for them—and the TARDIS didn't even appreciate it.

"I refuse to give that creature the honor of acknowledging that she has a name."

"Oh, don't be so childish." He snapped.

"Look who's talking," Idris rolled her eyes. "You act like a twelve-year-old."

"I do not!"

"Last night? When you ran out of fish custard? You threw a fit!"

"You're throwing a fit right now."

"Because she's UNNATURAL! Why is she so important to you, anyway? She's just a human!"

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER!"

The Doctor, in a fit of annoyance and rage, screamed the four words at the interface, his voice obtaining a Scottish growl like it sometimes did when he got angry.

Idris smiled, looking past him. "I told you."

The Doctor turned to the door to see Clara leaning on the frame, a huge grin on her face.


	8. Idris II

_**Previously...** _

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER!"

The Doctor, in a fit of annoyance and rage, screamed the four words at the interface, his voice obtaining a Scottish growl like it sometimes did when he got angry.

Idris smiled, looking past him. "I told you."

The Doctor turned to the door to see Clara leaning on the frame, a huge grin on her face.

**.........................................................................  
**

Ten minutes later, the Doctor was still shaking his head in disbelief, looking between Clara and Idris.

"So you're telling me that you and Clara have midnight chats without me knowing?" This was impossible. He thought they had hated one another! I mean, come on. How many plot twists can an alien take?

Idris placed a hand on her chest, looking affronted. "Well, yes. She had to spend more time with me when I kept making her bedroom disappear. We got to know one another quite well."

"But what about a few minutes ago? You seemed so mad at Clara; you wouldn't even say her name!"

Clara rolled her eyes. "It was all part of the plan."

"But-but..." The Doctor pouted.

"Aw...look, he's mad that we tricked him!" Clara and Idris high-fived each other, grinning from ear to ear.

"You act like you're so smart." He grumbled.

"Because I am!"

"I am the Oncoming Storm! The Bringer of Darkness! That Man With the Blue Box! No one is smarter than I am."

"Well, it seems as though I am, Chin Boy." Clara smiled at him, her eyebrows doing that adorable little wave they did whenever she felt triumphant. Her grin stretched wide, emphasizing her dimples and her nose pointing in the air. The Doctor felt something rise inside him at the sight of her, something hot and dark that purred, and he swallowed hard. With a flick of his screwdriver, he turned off the interface and leaned into Clara, sandwiching her between the controls and his body.

"Well, I am smart enough to know that I should tell you properly this time." He took a deep breath. "Clara Oswin Oswald, I'm in love with you."

**CLARA'S POV**

She had already known, but somehow it was more real when she heard him say it. Not screaming, but saying it to her face. While pressing her to the controls. And leaning in so close that his bow tie brushed her underneath her chin.  

Clara could scarcely breathe, let alone _think_. Since they had escaped from Hedgewick's World, even the Doctor's presence had made her dizzy and warm, sort of like the feeling of being drunk. His small touches, kisses on her forehead, and kind gestures were suddenly more intimate and less friendly; and yet he didn't seem to notice the change. She had begun to feel as if maybe she was alone in her feelings.

That was when she had confided in the TARDIS. Well, not so much confided as yelled at. The TARDIS had created a holographic leopard when she tried to take a shower, and had then proceeded to hide her bedroom. For a while, the two were at odds. But after the first two nights without a bedroom, Clara finally had the courage to ask.

**~Flashback~**

"Does the Doctor, er, talk about me much?" She questioned. Clara could practically see the time machine rolling her eyes.

"I guess I don't have to ask why you want to know, right Clara?" A familiar voice filled Clara's ears and her heart leapt with excitement and nervousness.

Clara froze. Turning, she spun around to see that the interface was activated, this time as a projection of the man she loved.

"D-Doctor?" Clara's lips parted and she stepped towards him hesitantly. Touching his shoulder, she frowned slightly when it was solid and three-dimensional. 

"But you're just a projection. How can you be...?"

He stepped closer, an unmistakable look of lust gracing his face. The Doctor kept walking towards her and she kept walking back, until she was caught between him and the mainframe.

Pressing a finger to her lips, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Don't worry about that now. In fact, you'll have very different things to worry about in a minute..."

Clara gasped as his lips trailed scalding hot passion across her jaw. "Doctor!"

He didn't respond, and instead brushed her lips with his own. They were soft and smooth, and made Clara lose all sense of reality. Her heart was thudding in her chest, her cheeks alight with need. She looked up at him, love pouring out her chocolate eyes and into his own, and smiled.

"I love you, Chin Boy."

...And then he disappeared.

"Doctor?" Clara growled with frustration, slamming her fist to the controls. "Stupid cow!"

**~Present~**

Now, here she was again - except this time the Doctor wasn't a projection. He was real. And he loved her. Acting on impulse, she tugged on his bow tie until they were breathing the same air. 

"I love you, Chin Boy," she said for the second time, but this time to the real alien. And she sealed their lips together in a rough kiss, one filled with love and regret for the time they had spent with unrequited feelings. But it was perfect and they both knew it as they pulled away from each other, chests heaving, and unable to fight the grins on their faces.

She would never let him disappear again.


	9. Snap!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Twelfth) wants to do something new, and suggests that he and Clara celebrate Thanksgiving.

"Doctor," Clara started, taking the pie out of the oven. "Could you take a picture of me with the pie? I usually burn it, but this one's okay."

The Doctor had insisted on celebrating the American holiday of Thanksgiving — something about experiencing other cultures on Earth as well as on other planets — so here Clara was, baking an apple pie while he sat around and fiddled with whatever new sonic device he was inventing.

Just like he was now, completely oblivious to the fact that Clara had a straight-out-of-the-oven pie in her arms and was ready to drop it.

"Doctor!" He jerked out of his focus.

"Daleks? Cybermen? What is it this time?" He jumped to his feet with screwdriver in hand, ready to ward off some alien creature.

"Doctor, could you take a picture of me with this pie?"

The Doctor relaxed, a slow smile spreading over his features. "Oh. Sure! I'll get my camera from the TARDIS, just a moment...."

He dashed off, leaving an amused Clara behind. 

"That man will be the death of me," she murmured, unable to fight a grin.

When he returned, he poised to take a picture. The Doctor took a few, then frowned.

"What?" Clara asked, concerned. Usually when the Doctor had that look on, the world was about to end.

"I just realized I don't have any pictures of you. I mean, I have some of Victorian Clara, but none of you, proper you with your soufflés and your modern clothes and everything and—"

"Doctor." Clara laughed. Setting the pie down on the stove, she took her oven mitts off and dried her hands on a red kitchen towel. "Alright, you can take some pictures of me. But I want some pictures of you after, okay?"

"Okay, boss." He followed her out the door and to her yard. Holding up the camera, he gestured at her.

"Do something weird!"

"Why?"

"Because in every photo I have of you, you're prim and proper and not Clara!"

"Alright, alright." She grumbled.

The Doctor looked down at his camera, fiddling with some buttons for the manual lighting settings, before raising it to his face and looking through the viewfinder.

Clara was twirling across the yard with her arms outstretched, looking up at the sky like she could see the planets above her. Her long scarlet coat fanned out around her and the Doctor thought vaguely that she looked like the flowers on Gallifrey. Her hair was free, not in its tight prison that she put it in when she would go on dates with Danny. It tumbled over her shoulders, messy and curly, in shades of chocolate and hickory and tawny and caramel and gingerbread. It was like some forbidden delicacy that the Doctor yearned after again and again. 

"Doctor." He jumped about a foot in the air, startling out of his daydream and turning a delicate shade of pink. Clara stood next to him, watching amusedly.

"Y-yes?"

"Did you get any good photos?"

The Doctor looked down at the camera in his hands, which was still positioned where Clara had been standing a minute earlier. And realized that he had been so busy staring at her that he hadn't actually taken any pictures.

"Um...."


End file.
